


Unreaching

by The_Cats_Paw



Series: The Reach [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cockblocking, F/M, Loud Sex, Prostitute, Sex, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Cats_Paw/pseuds/The_Cats_Paw
Summary: Vilkas and Farkas arrive in Rorikstead after finishing up in the Reach, and run into a familiar... ahem... face. Sequel to Reach Me.





	Unreaching

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my little one shot, Reach Me. It's called Unreaching because they left the Reach. Not very original, but there you go.

Returning to Whiterun had never been such an attractive prospect as it was now, but after the time they’d had in the Reach, Vilkas was more than glad to be home.

Or at least, he would be, once they actually got there. Right now, he and his brother were coming upon Rorikstead, there was still some ways to go. But the tundra plains were a welcome sight nonetheless. No Forsworn here, no hagravens, (that he knew of) and certainly no naked women in streams. As much as he’d enjoyed the view, his dreams had been plagued that night, and he’d gotten even less sleep than normal.

Farkas, of course, had slept like a rock.

Now that they were here, he supposed they should stop at the inn. It was starting to get dark, after all, and it would take almost a whole day to cross the tundra back to the city. The inn was the Frostfruit Inn, if he recalled correctly, run by an honourable Nord, Mralki, and his son. The boy was a whelp, from what Vilkas could recall, a farm boy with dreams of adventure. It wasn’t likely to happen, considering Mralki’s over-protectiveness. Still…

“At last!” Farkas rumbled happily. “Warm mead, warm bed, and that delightful wench, Hjotra. Ah, sweet, sweet, Hjotra.”

“Just make sure you don’t get into too much trouble with her, like you did last time,” Vilkas cautioned.

“Not to worry, brother,” Farkas reassured. “Jouane and I worked it all out when I came through with Torvar and Athis that time. We’re good.”

Vilkas seriously doubted that.

“Welcome, welcome!” Mralki greeted as soon as they entered, his smile widening when he realised who they were. “Vilkas, Farkas! Pull up a seat, my friends. We’ve got warm food, warm drinks, and warm beds.”

“Farkas!”

The grin on his brother’s face looked painfully wide, and Vilkas sighed as he opened his arms and swept Hjotra off her feet. “I’ve been wondering when you’d come back to me, handsome,” the wench practically purred.

“How could I stay away?” Farkas grinned. “Those curves, that smile…”

“Did you bring plenty of gold?” she asked with a pout, and squealed with delight when Farkas nodded, pulling him off to one of the rooms.

“Make sure you keep it down in there!” Vilkas yelled. “I want to keep my ears intact this time!”

Farkas gave him a thumbs up before slamming their door shut.

Mralki chuckled. “She loves it when he comes by,” he commented, then quickly handed over a bottle of mead when Vilkas glared at him, pocketing some gold coins in return.

The next few hours were spent alternating between wincing at how loud his brother and the wench were, and downing mead. Eventually he looked around and realised that someone was missing. Vilkas stood and headed over to the bar, where Mralki was cleaning out tankards.

“Where’s that whelp son of yours?” he asked. “I just realised, he’s not here. Can’t be out farming, it’s too dark.”

Mralki sighed. “I was… convinced to let him become an adventurer,” he said. “Got him some armour and a sword in Whiterun not long ago.”

“So he’s off somewhere taking on bandits and whatnot?”

Nodding, Mralki said, “He decided to be a mercenary, that way he could hone his skills and earn some gold at the same time. He mostly goes off with Signy these days, since she was the one who convinced me to let him go.”

“Signy?”

Mralki nodded. “An honourable, seasoned fighter,” he said. “When Erik’s off with her, I worry, because I’ve heard of the things she fights. Draugr, necromancers, dragons…”

Dragons? That made him think of the woman in the Reach, surrounded by dead things. Like a dragon…

“Is she…” Vilkas was uncertain about how to proceed, but Mralki seemed to understand what he was asking.

“She’s the Dragonborn,” he confirmed.

The Dragonborn. Tales of this fierce warrior had reached the mead hall of Jorrvaskr, with Skjor and Aela bemoaning the fact that she hadn’t joined up with them yet. The woman in the Reach… The dragon had been nothing but bones, and Vilkas had heard that that happened after the Dragonborn absorbed souls. But he had no way to prove it unless he came across her again.

As if summoned up from Oblivion by his thoughts, the door to the inn opened, letting in a gust of cold air, and two figures. One was obviously Erik, looking remarkable formidable in his armour. The other… Well, when she removed her hood, he recognised her instantly. It was _her_. The woman from the Reach. The _Dragonborn_.

“Erik! Signy!” Mralki exclaimed. “Well, wouldn’t you know it. We were just talking about you two, and now here you are.”

“Hey, father,” Erik said, a big grin on his face. “We’ve got quite a lot of tales for you this time.”

“Maybe later,” Mralki said. “Come on, put your feet up. You both must be exhausted.”

“Vilkas!” Erik said, noticing the Companion. “It’s good to see you. Are you here alone or is Farkas or Ria here too?”

“Farkas is here,” Vilkas told him, noticing the woman eyeing him with a curious gleam in her eye. “In a room already.”

Erik snorted slightly. “I bet Hjotra was glad to see him,” he said. “Her knight in shining armour, she calls him.”

“Erik,” the woman said. “Why don’t you introduce us?”

“Oh, Signy, this is Vilkas,” Erik told her. “He’s a Companion, a member of their inner circle, too.”

“Like Aela?” Signy asked, surprising Vilkas.

“You know her?”

“We’ve ‘bonded’ over a mug of ale or two in the Bannered Mare,” Signy said with a reminiscent smile. It was a slightly naughty smile too, and he wondered at it.

“We’ve just come back from the Reach,” Erik was saying. “Signy was looking for some words of power, and we even took out a couple of Forsworn camps, too.”

“Those Forsworn are trouble,” Mralki said, shaking his head as he put a plate of food each in front of his son and the Dragonborn.

“They want to reclaim the Reach for their people,” Signy said. “But allying themselves with the hagravens really isn’t the way to go about it.”

“So, you both took on the Forsworn and…”

“And a couple of dragons,” Erik interrupted proudly. “Well, Signy mostly deals with the dragons, I stay back and pelt them with arrows. Swords are useless with them.”

“You _try_ to stay back,” Signy grinned at him. “But that one near Old Hroldan got a bit too close, didn’t it?”

Erik sighed. “There wasn’t much space to move,” he seemed to be reminding her. “And you’re forgetting the bear.”

“I’m really not.”

“What happened?” Mralki asked, looking worried.

As they launched into their tale, Vilkas found himself wondering where Erik had been when Signy was… ahem… bathing that day. And then, naturally, his mind wandered to the memory of her naked and washing the blood from her body…

He jerked to attention to pull himself out of his little fantasy, just in time to watch Erik get up and head off for bed. Signy stayed where she was, drinking some mead with a thoughtful, almost pensive expression. And that was when the moans started up again from where Farkas and Hjotra were.

“Ugh, they’re noisy,” Signy complained as the moans increased in volume.

“I’d wondered if they’d start up again,” Vilkas mused. “It must be almost three in the morning, though, thought they might have given up already.”

Signy gave him a speculative look. “Maybe they can’t sleep,” she suggested. “A bit of fornication is good for curing that, you know.”

Vilkas almost sputtered at that, but he held it in. “You’re quite forward,” he commented.

“Aela seemed to like it,” she winked at him, and this time he _did_ choke on his mead a bit.

“You hooked up with Aela?” he asked. “I’m surprised.”

Signy looked offended, but before she could say anything, he amended, “I meant that I’m surprised she didn’t go bragging about it.”

The woman relaxed and shrugged. “What can I tell you?” she said. “I inspire discretion.”

A moment’s silence later (not including his brother’s and Hjotra’s moans), and Vilkas decided to strike up some small talk. “So…” he started. “You were in the Reach? Farkas and I were there, too.”

“I was after a dragon bounty,” Signy said. “And a word of power the Greybeards divined for me. Ended up traipsing all over the northern half of the Reach.”

“We were after a criminal that had escaped jail,” Vilkas told her. “And we took on a Forsworn bounty for the Jarl, as well.”

A squeal, a grunt and a bang interrupted them, then Signy moved closer. “You know, your brother might have the right idea,” she murmured, almost purring the way Hjotra had done at his brother earlier.

“Are you coming on to me?” he asked, feeling a mixture of amused and something that might have been terrified, but nothing scared him, really.

“And what if I am?” she asked, leaning forward, her hand coming to rest on his armour clad thigh, her lips close to his.

Before they could meet, the door to his brother’s room banged open, and Farkas came striding out, a bottle of mead in his hand. “Vilkas!” he called, then noticed Signy. “Well, well, who do we have here? Introduce us brother!”

Vilkas sighed, disappointed even as Signy pulled away. He introduced them, and Farkas gave her a charming smile, one that had gotten him into the skirts of many a wench in the past. His brother was more than a little drunk, he could tell. Hjotra obviously had a supply of alcohol with her, and had plied his bother well. Too well, he learned a moment later.

“Hey, I’ve seen you before!” Farkas exclaimed.

“Really?” Signy asked. “Where?”

“Near Bruca’s Leap,” Farkas said, and Vilkas suddenly realised what was about to happen. “You were surrounded by a whole lot of dead folk, and a dragon too.”

Signy sat up straighter, glancing at Vilkas with a rather evil look in her eyes. “Bruca’s Leap?” she enquired softly, and Vilkas heard the danger in her tone. He tried to back away subtly.

“Yup,” Farkas grinned. “And you were _naked_ , too!”

That was it. They were doomed. Farkas was an _idiot_. A _drunk_ idiot.

“Naked?” Signy said. “You were watching me?”

“Not on purpose,” Farkas dismissed. “Besides, you ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of, girl.” He winked at her.

Signy seemed to be torn between hitting them and calling a guard, and Vilkas didn’t really blame her. He glared at his brother, even as Signy stood and said, “Well, I guess I’ll leave you both to it then. Goodnight, Vilkas. Farkas.”

She left then, headed off to the room Erik had gone to earlier. Vilkas whacked his brother over the head. “Idiot,” he said.

Cock-blocked by his brother. Vilkas sighed. Life _really_ sucked right now.


End file.
